


triste

by nowaitwhatwhyfuck



Category: One Piece
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, so guess what, there is barely any garp fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 14:07:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16306634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nowaitwhatwhyfuck/pseuds/nowaitwhatwhyfuck
Summary: So, Garp mourns for the man he cannot be- and weeps.





	triste

He remembers the first time Ace grinned. The way he crawled towards him, the way he laughed and gurgled at all his funny faces. Little Ace, who always wanted to be picked up and snuggled. He will never forget how small Ace first was, with one thumb in his mouth, and the other hand clutching his shirt, not letting go.

Tiny Ace, who for all his black hair and bluster, was much more his mother’s son than his father’s. Much more, in the way his freckles would darken with his blush, the way he would scrunch his nose, and the way his eyes always lingered on flowers- the small gasps of excitement when he saw new flowers; the bright, glittering eyes and the suppressed smiles- he’s thankful he hasn’t yet forgotten that.

Far too soon, _far_ too quickly, his little, snotty Ace grew up. He grew up too hard, too resentful, but Luffy made him softer, made him kinder. His idiot son may have given him his grey hairs with all his revolutionary nonsense, but he will forever owe his son for Luffy. Brilliant, _reckless_ Luffy, who was Ace’s anchor and little brother and light, all in one. He still doesn’t know how precious Luffy is to Ace, and he cannot ask. He is in no position to, not after what he hasn’t done.

He doesn’t want to think about the small, blonde runaway who always had Ace’s back. He cannot bear to think of how he let him down, no, let them all down. He regrets never training them properly, maybe then they would be stronger, maybe the toothless wonder would be alive. But he is sometimes a coward, and not all his battles can be fought by his fists, so he stays silent, and does not let himself grieve for Sabo.

He’s been to so many executions in his service. More often than not, he’s the one who arrested them. He’s been to so many kinds of executions too- ones where the crowd hisses and curses the prisoner, ones where they stay still and quiet, and one where a life ends, but a legend is created, which change the course of history _forever_. He’s never been to one like this, though. Ace’s execution is a show put up for the masses, a war between what is right and what is wrong, with Ace’s family and allies fighting with a fervent desperation to rescue Ace, mirrored by the Marines, who fight fiercely, to protect their values and their morals. Ace’s execution is a macabre parody of his father’s execution- it is one meant to end the era begun by Roger. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, and he must do _something_ to stop this, but he cannot move.

He wants to protect Ace from the hostility the world still holds for Roger, but he is too old, too far away, and on the entirely opposite side of this war. Ace, though, has never been Roger’s son. He is Rouge’s son, and wears her name with his head held high. He is Whitebeard’s son, and bears his mark with pride. But he hasn’t ever been Roger’s son, and resents him, resents his blood. He loathes _everything_ which marks them as father and son, but he cannot run away from his legacy which they force on him.

Ace isn’t meant to be shackled and bound. He’s meant to be _free_ , always laughing, and always looking forward. He was meant to find his purpose, to find out why he was born. But he is here, trapped and betrayed and heartbroken. It would be so easy for him to free Ace, to rescue him, and protect him, but his morals have _always_ defined him, and that is what he prides himself on.

So, he sits cross-legged on the platform, with his head bowed. So, he stays sombre and silent, and does not interfere. So, Garp mourns for the man he cannot be- and _weeps_.


End file.
